


Not Alone

by Mohini



Series: Bits and Pieces [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mohini/pseuds/Mohini
Summary: The images can't be shared for any of a thousand reasons, but there is safety to be found in finally being not alone.





	Not Alone

He wakes to soft whimpers, a sound so small that if he wasn’t what he is, he might never have heard it at all. But he is, and he did, so he’s on his feet and moving toward the room next to his before his brain has time to process anything besides the simple need to help.

“Bucky?” he calls from the doorway. The sounds are louder now and he can see that Bucky is tangled in the blankets as though he’s been thrashing in his sleep for a while. When he gets no response, he moves closer, calls out a little louder. There’s still no response and this close he can see that Bucky is sweating and flushed, breathing in shuddery gasps. Without considering the possible consequence, he reaches down and grasps Bucky’s shoulder, shaking him gently and trying to rouse him. He’s grateful for his reflexes when he dodges a wildly thrown punch and sidesteps Bucky’s growling lunge from the bed. 

“Bucky!” he says sharply, hoping to catch his attention long enough to reorient him. It works, and Bucky drops to his knees instantly, head bowed and both arms wrapping around his torso as he pants for breath. 

“Steve. Fuck. Did I hurt you?”

“Nah, I ducked,” Steve replies immediately. “Do you, want to, um, can you talk about whatever was hurting you there?”

“It’s not important.”

“You’re shaking,” Steve points out. “You’re sweating and your heart’s going about a thousand times faster than normal. It doesn’t have to be important. Just tell me what you can.”

“What I can? Steve, you know what I was. I can’t tell you anything.”

“You’re not the only one in the room who ran black ops, Buck. Leave out the intel, but you’ve got to get some of this out of your head before it kills you.”

“Fuck,” Bucky mutters, shaking his head back and forth and Steve catches the tiny hitch in his shoulders with just enough time to grab the wastebasket and shove it into his lap before Bucky is heaving up bile and mucus, his empty stomach trying to bring up more long after its emptied out. 

When it’s over, Steve levers him to his feet, guides him to sit on the edge of the bed and then to lie back down. The trembling is even more pronounced now, and Bucky’s teeth are chattering together. Steve pulls up the blankets, smoothes them over his oldest friend. Sheer chance had brought them back together, quite literally running into each other in the lobby of the VA hospital. Three weeks later, they signed the lease on this place together, after Steve figured out that Bucky was sleeping in his car. 

“Tell me what to do here, Buck,” Steve instructs, his voice in the register that had his men calling him Captain America back in the field. 

“I would if I could,” Bucky whispers. Steve takes that to mean that there isn’t much of anything he can for to fix this, to fix his friend, so he goes to the other side of the bed, slides in and wraps his arms around Bucky, spooning up behind him as Bucky had done for him a million lifetimes ago back in Brooklyn when he was a scared, sickly kid who just needed to be loved.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. Bucky nods, his breathing erratic and his body still impossibly tense. “I don’t know what you see at night, but if it’s sand, or snow, or trees, or jungle, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t know what you had to do, and I won’t make you tell me. Just know that whatever it is, you’re not alone anymore. I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving.”

Bucky nods his understanding, and after what seems an eternity, the shaking drops off and he rolls to face Steve, pillowing his head between his shoulder and neck. “Thank you,” he breathes out, his voice somewhere far below a whisper.


End file.
